


The Voice In My Head

by Willie_The_Plaid_Jacket



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Post Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-05 12:15:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/723195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willie_The_Plaid_Jacket/pseuds/Willie_The_Plaid_Jacket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is gone, John is using an old coping method.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Voice In My Head

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short little ficlet to go with [this](http://willietheplaidjacket.tumblr.com/post/45423209688/so-that-porny-thing-i-mentioned-yesterday-became)

John couldn’t remember her name. An hour later, he would barely remember her face.

He knew that she was attractive, that they had locked eyes across a bar; that he hadn’t been in the mood for a drawn out game of flirtatious glances and false smiles, and had walked up to her and whispered directly into her ear, “Your place?”

He knew, with his face between her thighs, it had worked.

Without distractions, without incessant texts and cases and abductions, John had taken to living up to the name he had made for himself in the military. A ladies man, a man of great knowledge gleaned from 3 continents. He had always seen himself as being of average attractiveness but in possession of a large reserve of confidence. Something that had served him well and still did. Something that was making the attractive, nameless woman above him moan.

Something that, for all its uses, could not rid him of the echo in his head. An echo of his name. Whispered, breathy, masculine, familiar.

It bounced off the inside walls of his skull, drowning out all other noises.

His name, in a voice that had last told him ‘goodbye’.

John clamped his eyes shut and began moving up the woman’s body, trying to fill his senses with her. His hands slid up her sides, his tongue trailed up her stomach, then chest, then neck. Until he was over her, and on her, and in her.

He began to move with purpose, focusing on the warmth spreading through him with each thrust. The pressure building as his hips moved faster...

“ _John..._ ”

His breath quickened. Sweat made their two bodies glide against one another. The edge was in sight...

“ _John..._ ”

Whispers in his ear that shouldn’t have made him moan but wrenched the sound from his throat regardless. The ‘here and now’ began to fade. John let go and vanished into his head, sensation and imagination merging.

“ _Ngh... John..._ ”

There was only one face he could remember. Only one voice he could hear. Only one person, tipping him over the precipice into his orgasm in a bittersweet flood of relief. John would always remember his name...

“Sherlock!”


End file.
